Clothing Optional
by PopMuzika
Summary: Santana is a massive movie star who has a superstar athlete husband. But her entire world turns upside down when a rather forward, unconventional bunch move in across the street. Things go from bad to worse when she meets one member of the group; who for some reason, seems to think she is a different person than the person she presents herself as.
1. Umm Da Fuck?

Hi there! *waves at you in an annoyingly perky fashion* Because fic's are like books that you sadly don't have the next chapter for right away (if you follow from the start that is), I think you should kinda get to know what you're in for before you start, don't you think? I think it's only fair. So here are the basics of what you will encounter and/or not encounter in this fic should you decide to proceed.

This is comedy/romance but it does have its dramatic moments. With that being said, they are propelled by the comedy (unlike Glee itself) in an effort to make things flow and show off the great characters this mess of a show has created but has refused to develop. So, hopefully you will find the comedy funny but the goal of the fic isn't always 100% to make you laugh all the way through each chapter; like my fics Interruptions or Puffity Puff Puff. But if you like those fics, I think you'll like this one too. Basically, it's far more rounded because it's a full size fic instead of just a chapter or two. Huge portions of this story are already written and I know how it ends so it shouldn't just stop midway…In a nutshell, Ryan Murphy didn't write this.

This is a slow burn fic for sure. So, if you want them to be shluping the first chapter, it's not gonna happen with this fiction. There's lots of delicious tension and build up though! Who doesn't like build up? Oh yes right, RIB. ;)

Because there are a lot of reoccurring themes that pop up in Brittana fictions that I personally am not a fan of (and I know many are not a fan of), I have decided to make a small list of things you will NEVER run into in this fiction. Because who likes to read five chapters and everything is going great and then…**DUCKS**.

**A small list of things you will surely NOT find in this fiction:**

1) The blonde, The brunette, The dancer, THE LATINA, B, S, Sanny, Britty, DUCKS, Santana speaking Spanish and/or Spanish written without translations, Puck & Santana being best friends, Faberry, an abundance of random underdeveloped original characters, useless Glee characters being included with zero point to the story just because they are on Glee, Quinntana being best friends/previous lovers, skinny jeans (because seriously, there are other wardrobe options), Mike and Brittany being best friends, big chunks of song lyrics, graphic depictions of sex that doesn't involve both B&S, instant Brittany and Santana being so in love with each other that they know they're soulmates the second the see each other, ridiculously short chapters, zero spell check, Klaine, Bram, mentioning that I don't own Glee, wrapped her arm around her clit, one party (Santana or Brittany) ALWAYS being wrong no matter what, contrived drama out of nowhere, characters that are not Brittany and Santana being pushed to the forefront to the point that they are practically lead characters, and…

2) I will not be asking for reviews (even like I jokingly do for Interruptions), I appreciate them because they let me know that people are actually reading and I like reading people's reactions. But, I will not be asking each chapter for you to review. But please keep in mind (as I'm sure you already are well aware of) that many authors spend tons of their time that they could be spending watching the hurt locker or heart over and over, to write these stories. And personally, I think the least we can do is write a few thoughts down if we happened to enjoy the free entertainment. Like that little guilt trip? Me neither. LOL. This will not be a preachy or PSA laden fic. Therefore, that was my one and only guilt trip. :D

**6-21-13 update: Sam is in this fiction**. He doesn't have a big role but there is very much a point to it. If you absolutely can't handle his existence (even though he will be written as season 2 Sam and have NOTHING romantic with Santana or Brittany), then this fic probably isn't for you. He's the only guy on the show that fits the role I needed in the story, so that's why he's there.

If this sounds like something you would like to read, then here is chapter 1!

ENJOY! :D

* * *

**Chapter 1: Umm…Da Fuck?**

"Howdy neighbor, just thought I would bring you some fresh Tubbington poops as a nice to meet you gift." Well, that's a great first impression if I ever heard one.

"WHAT?!" David, my stocky husband, stood there in utter confusion about everything that was transpiring within the current situation he was unwillingly exposed to.

"Candy, they're Baby Ruth bars. As a kid I thought my cat pooped them."

"Who's Tubbington?"

"My pussy."

"You named your pussy Tubbington." He stated more than questioned.

"Lord Tubbington actually, you should meet him sometime. He can be a bit surly but when he gets used to you, he'll let you pet him."

"Your pussy is male?" She was about to answer but he cut her off. "Listen lady, I'm married. I don't wanna pet your pussy, okay?"

"I thought your name was Dave?"

"It is."

"So why are you saying you're married?"

"Because I am!"

"But you're Dave."

"My name is Dave and I am also married."

"Is that your last name?" And he finally cracked…

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHO CARES?! AND WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU NAKED ON MY PORCH?!" Did I forget to mention that she was in her birthday suit? Details.

"It's ninety degrees, why are you wearing a puffer jacket?"

"Because normal people don't walk around introducing themselves to new people in the nude."

"I'm plenty normal, I'm just not the average." He simply stood there baffled by what he had officially deemed the weirdest exchange of his life. "Anyway, please take my gift and share it with your husband, Mr. Married."

"Why the hell would I have a husband? And my last name is Karofsky! Not Married."

"I want you to know that I know you people drink more than vodka because there aren't a people on this earth that don't enjoy Coke. It brings us all together."

"WHAT?! What are you TALKING ABOUT?!" He practically shrieked in terror as she blabbed on.

"And you have to have a husband."

"No, I don't HAVE to have a husband! For the last time, I have a wife!" The nude fair haired person then proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly.

"You're funny Dave, I like you. You should come to my picnic this weekend. It'll be at my house across the street." She proceeded to point at the all white building with a brightly colored Volkswagen bus parked in front of it. "I really hope we can be friends." She took it upon herself to hand him a postcard sized invitation and then press her nude self up against him in a hug.

"OFF! GET OFF!"

"And you say you're not gay." She giggled. "I hope to see you there!" She smiled brightly and then walked back down the long driveway and out the giant gate.

"Damn security guards are good for nothing!" He picked up his cell and called the security booth that opened and closed the front gate. "HOW the HELL did that lunatic make it on my property?!"

"Dude, boobs man. Boobs."

"PUCK, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! You can't just let people in because they're naked!"

"Of course not, who would do that? Only the hot chicks make the cut! Am I right bro?" One could hear the high five Puck had hanging in the air via the stoked tone of his voice.

"PUCK! If my wife had seen that she would have killed me! That naked chick fucking hugged me! You know how ballistic Santana would have gone? That girl would be being buried in the backyard right as we speak!"

"Okay, okay! Don't piss your pampers dude; won't happen again. I'll make sure the hot naked chicks only end up in my bedroom."

"Fine by me, and Puck?"

"Yeah?"

"At least trim the damn mohawk man; it looks like a dead squirrel that just got ran over by a tank. Santana has been complaining that you will single-handedly destroy our A-list status by looking like such a Lima loser when 'guarding' the gate."

"Dude that's col-" And David hung up. This morning was farrrrr too eventful for his liking. He took a moment to collect himself and mentally delete that any of what just happened had actually happened. "No consistently naked girls live across the street from me." He repeated multiple times and then decided to go to the gym.

However, unbeknownst to him, he had made one slight mistake…

**-Three hours and three Rodeo drive shopping sprees later-**

"What in the God's name of Hell is this?! DAVID?!"

"What?" He rushed out of his office to see what the big hubbub was about, only to find the naked picnic invitation in my newly manicured hand. His mouth made an o shape and then his forehead proceeded to perspire at James Brown levels for good reason. One wrong move and this could lead to a reminder of my birthplace, Lima Heights Adjacent.

"You've got ten seconds to explain. Go."

"Umm there was this super weird white girl…You know I don't like white girls… remember…?"

"Keep going." I replied while crossing my arms and tapping my Jimmy Choo clad heel on the Italian marble floor I had paid a sewage plant sized shitload for.

"Well, she was completely in the nude and she was on my…" I glared. "OUR, doorstep because stupid Puckerman let her in because she was naked. And then she went on about bringing us candy that her pussy shitted and then kept calling me married and gave me that invite." I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed because… what in the fucking shit are you supposed to reply to that with?

"What. The. Fuck. David."

"I know! I wouldn't believe it either but that IS what happened! I told her to get off OUR property but then she hugged me and-"

"You let a naked girl who is not your wife hug you?"

"She vaulted her body at me! I couldn't stop her!"

"Now you sound like fucking PUCK! BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT! My hand slipped and went in her peesh like a heat-seeking missile!" I rolled my eyes. "You are the number three wide receiver in the NFL! I think you can fend off some nude white girl…Which by the way, why is his hair still like that?"

"I told him to cut it when I called to yell at him about his incompetence." I shook my head while looking at the invite again. It was written in crayon and then had a Polaroid of what one would assume was her ass on it. My first thought, after mentally uttering what the fuck to myself, was to the question what exercises she did to get it so firm and high. Let's not kid ourselves, mine was pretty impressive too, that's what a $2,500 a month trainer will get you. But her ass had undeniable height and buoyancy. One had to give the crazy bitch credit.

"We are going upstairs and you are going to stare at me naked in order to get the image of that whore out of your brain. You understand me?" God, I was an amazing wife. Only I would give my husband a punishment of tits. He played along via the pout on his face. I would reward him for that later. "And this…" I lifted up the full assed invitation. "Stay's right here. Tomorrow I'm going to march over there and shove it right up her perky derriere and YOU are going to cheer me on whilst informing her that I am much sexier than she could ever dream of being. You will also being wearing a 'My wife is always right' t-shirt as you do so. Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely."

"Good." I smirked at my complete and utter control as I placed the invite down on my overpriced, almost out of season coffee table. "This…" I gave it another glance. "Brittany, has no idea what's coming to her."

And it was true.

She didn't.

* * *

Crazy, yes? Oh trust me, things get even more batshit. Next chapter Santana is actually going to meet our favorite bicorn. :D Oh and by the way, this was the shortest chapter of the fiction. It's just the setup. :) Was my intro helpful or did you just skip it? I think Santana would have read it but Brittany would have skipped it. :D

Thanks for reading!


	2. What a Bunch of Fucking Crazies

Hey! I'm having so much fun writing this that I've got the next chapter ready already! Thank you for all the follows and reviews! I wish I could respond directly to all you lovely guest reviewers but most of you had winks in your comments so I'll just wink back. *Attempts to wink like Brittany, but actually looks like a fly flew into my eye* Oh and I'm glad I'm not the only one that was tired of skinny jeans being in practically every fic.

I'm not sure Santana and Dave were prepared for this. But Brittany? Brittany knows her shit! :D

ENJOY!

* * *

**CHAPTER 2: What a Bunch of Fucking Crazies!**

Nobody wants some weird freak in their neighborhood. Nobody. I mean seriously, I didn't work my ass off to become the number one earning movie star in the business, to live in the same neighborhood as that nutjob. If that's what I wanted, I would have stayed in Lima Heights Adjacent and hung out with the ever homeless Patches. But because I've never been one to shy away from confrontation, Naked Hugger was about to get a piece of my mind and a couple diamond encrusted razorblades, that I had hidden all up in my weave, entrenched in firm frequently exposed ass.

After grabbing my husband by the ear, we walked…Okay, I strutted and he moseyed whilst complaining bitchily about the pain I was inflicting; over to what was supposedly the naked crazies living quarters. Because I like to make spectacular first impressions, I banged on the door and began my questioning before the nude blonde person I was presented with had even the slightest chance of uttering a hello.

"Sooo, what's up with the nudity, peroxide fetishist?" I blurted out in a rather sarcastic, mildly judgy fashion. The slender woman perked an eyebrow that could have used a little help from a pencil.

"What's up with societies need to cover up the beauty that is the human form? That's the better question."

"With all due respect Twiggy, lot's of the world is ugly and needs to be draped in garments on a twenty-four hour, every day of the year basis. Exhibit A…" I pointed towards the gaudy monstrosity that was my next door neighbors home. "Finchel manor. All specimen that occupy that tackyass house need clothing; especially the big boobed one, Chunky Monkey McFlabopants Finn Hudson."

"I like boobs." Another blonde lady; also completely in the nude, showed up beside the original blonde person. What was this? Some sort of Swedish nudist hostel or something?

"THAT'S HER!" My husband bellowed in horror.

"Oh! Hello, Dave Married! Is this your hag?" She referred to me with a warm smile. _What did she just call me?_

"HAG?!" _I am the hottest dime piece on this block…and well, in the country._

"You know," Blonde human waif thing number one began, "Female friend of a gay dude."

"I'M NOT GAY!" David exclaimed. In return, both fair haired maidens doubled over laughing.

"Okay okay, don't get your sparkly jockstrap in a twist."

"David is my husband, you low rent prematurely aging Suzanne Somers ripoff! And he wears boxer briefs, thank you very much."

"So?" The nudist supposedly named Brittany, according to the invite, questioned. "I've had plenty of boyfriends but even if I married one, that wouldn't suddenly mean I wouldn't also like girls. Dave Married is super duper gay no matter who he's pretending to want to stick it in right now. And the good news is I know just the boy for him!" She clapped happily about her own supposed matchmaking skills.

"YOU ARE NOT SETTING MY STRAIGHT HUSBAND UP WITH A MAN!"

"Of course not, I would never do that." She rolled her eyes as if to say 'DUH!'. "I want to set your super cute gay husband up with another super cute gay man."

"I DON'T HAVE A GAY HUSBAND!"

"You really should just wait to meet my choice for your spouse. His name is Kurt and he's an amazing unicorn. His horn is like…a mile long."

"What the FUCK are you talking about_?" Clearly, this lady only had friends because her perfectly round tits were out 100% of the time. Who fucking talks like this? _I mean, I'm from the heights. There's lots of druggies hanging around that don't make sense but something told me this person actually wasn't on anything_._ I couldn't help but think that she was a few marinara sauces short of a Breadstix kids meal…"And who the hell is Dave Married?"

"Him." She pointed at my getting more and more uncomfortable by the second husband.

"His name is David Karofsky. He is the third most successful wide receiver in the NFL."

"I would have thought he was a top but…HOT." The older skinny one giggled furiously as a result of Brittany's baffling statement.

"What does that even MEAN?"

"Ask your husband." The unnamed one interjected. I turned to him and he just shrugged in confusion. "Anyway, you guys should totally come to our picnic on Saturday. The more the merrier!"

"I can't marry her Holly, I just met her and it's not legal in this state yet."

"WHAT?!" I bellowed in complete and utter fright.

"No, what I meant was that the more people at our picnic, the better." The supposedly named Holly person rephrased.

"Oh yeah, right. Yeah, the more people the better so you guys should join, but leave the clothes at home please. Besides, it doesn't make any difference with you anyway." She gave me a pointed glance, "Your dress is so tight, I don't get why you decided to wear it at all." Brittany pondered out loud while giving me a rather blunt once over.

"Because I have decency."

"No, that's not it." She stated seriously, as if she were trying to crack some sort of code. "I think it's because you're kinda rude."

"That doesn't make any sense." I was about to rip my own weave out trying to understand this painful attempt at a conversation.

"Of course it does."

"Excuse me?"

"You're rude."

"How?"

"It's unthoughtful to others."

"Listen Goldie locks and her assless bear-"

"Oh no, Holly's not a bear…Now, Dave Married on the other hand-"

"SHUT UP! Start making sense before I findz it in my need to slap the crazy out of you." Brittany seemed to ponder this proposition deeply.

"Where would this slapping take place exactly?"

"What difference does it make?"

"I think to Brittany It makes ALLLLLL the difference." Holly added helpfully while smirking.

"If you were thinking ass I'm all up for that but I think we should get to know each other a bit more before we slap asses."

"NOBODY'S SLAPPING ANYBODY'S ASS!"

"Well… that's boring." Brittany responded and then gave what could be considered the world's most pathetic looking pout. I was sure she got her way many a time sporting that diabolical thing. I was on to her, she was far more manipulative than she seemed. I suspected in that moment that she was one of those people who could convince people that she was dumb, only to later surprise them when they least expected it. She was the type to outsmart them before they even realized that they had been outsmarted. I could tell, she was likely to be my next opponent. I was never one to back down from a challenge, so the future looked interesting to say the least.

"You still didn't answer my question. Why is me wearing clothes unthoughtful? I am People magazines most fashion person of the year three years in a row! By wearing the latest fashions, I basically tell people what they should wear so they don't have to think about it. I'd say that's pretty thoughtful!"

"Why would you deny the public that view? It's mean." See, this was some sort of game I couldn't put my finger on. She was clearly trying to get the upper hand, but the upper hand of what exactly? That was the question. I wasn't sure what we were fighting for or what winning even meant but I was going to win whatever this was because I was Santana motherfucking Lopez damn it. I never ever lost for any reason ever. Period. This she would learn.

"I'm on to you Brittany." I wagged my finger at her authoritatively.

"No you're not, you're standing too far away."

"No, I mean…Ah hell! You know what? Just don't show up at my house naked again ever for any reason. You got that?"

"But then how am I gonna visit?"

"You're not."

"Oh, so we meet at my house! We can even have a slumber party with Kurt and gossip about Rachel Hudson and debate if she is related to the world's best actress, Kate Hudson."

I didn't even know where to START.

"One, I am NOT coming over to this house again. Two, I don't know this Kurt and don't want to hang around some dude who's naked when I have a HUSBAND. Thirdly, Kate Hudson is nowhere near the world's best actress; that would be me, and I don't need your weirdass to help me gossip about Rachel. The woman's a troll that has such incredible suction via her gargantuan nose that she can clean her floors just by sniffing. I have a weekly YouTube show on my official YouTube channel 'Snixual', that is solely dedicated to taking the piss out of her."

"Shouldn't you just let her pee on her own? That sounds mean. I mean, yeah I don't like her either but messing with her like that doesn't sound healthy." Was this how she wore people down? By finding a way to say absolutely nothing that makes any sense at all repeatedly to everything they said? After a minor time lapse, I chose to reply with the only thing I could come up with at that moment.

"Well…Fuck you!"

"Like I said, I really think we should get to know each other a little bit first. Sexy lady humping is better with feelings."

"Why on EARTH would I want to have SEX with YOU?! I have a husband!"

"Who is gay." Once again Holly interjected, "And my gaydar is freaking out when I look at you too."

"I am the FACE of heterosexuality."

"Does she only have haha home mirrors in her house?"

"I think you mean funhouse mirrors and she's standing right in front of us Britt. You can just ask her yourself."

"Are they-"

"What do you think?" I snapped back. The wheels turned in her head at a furious pace and clearly after much mental exertion, they came to the correct conclusion. Then for unfortunate reasons, her mind came up with more things to say.

"But if you abstain from girl flowers, that must make it hard for you to have good sex since you know, you're like super unicorn."

"What the fuck is being unicorn?!"

"I can teach you, if you come to the picnic." _Why is she smirking?_

"You think you can teach me anything? You're like the stupidest person I've ever met!" Her face went from a bright one to an extremely disappointed one remarkably fast. There was an awkward moment of silence until she finally responded with the following,

"I'm mad at you, but you're still so hot." She then turned around and walked away with her head hanging low. I had to give her credit; the ass was even more impressive in person.

"I think you should leave now." I scoffed. I should have never came in the first place. What a bunch of crazies they were. "Nobody talks to Brittany like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, thinking that you're all important because you're both famous. When deep down you're both rotten people, who can't even admit to yourselves that you're gay and take out all your aggression on others because you're so miserable. Both Brittany and I love meeting new people but we will not have misery and rudeness hanging around our free and loving home. You are uninvited to the picnic until you learn to be better people and apologize to Brittany." Holly then slammed the door in my face. I stood there for a second stunned before I turned around and gave a look of victory to my totally freaked out husband.

"Welp, no more naked chicks on our doorstep."

Mission accomplished…

Right?

RIGHT?

**RIGHT?**

It's never that simple, is it?

* * *

Very little is that simple! Hmmmm...what is going on here? So nude Brittany and nude Holly live together, but why? Santana has managed to not know what a hag is and completely fails to figure out 85% of Brittany's come on's...Is it because she truly doesn't get them or is it because she is ignoring them? What the hell is Santana's marriage? How could she call Brittany stupid?! There's so many questions!

Once again, thanks for the follows, favorites, and reviews! If I were Brittany I'd invite you all to my picnic. :D


	3. A Spark

I've gotten a few questions about Brittany's nudity and I just wanted to say it isn't always going to be a "thing". It just is right now in the story because it's seriously throwing Santana off. Eventually, Brittany's nudity is just there and not mentioned so much. When we see things often they typically become the norm, right? Something else has become the norm for Santana too. Read to find out what. :D

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 3 : A Spark**

"Husband person thing I married for some reason that I can't remember right now, why the hell is this invite still here? I threw it away!"

"She mailed us another one."

"Who mail's something to someone who lives across the street?"

"You mailed Rachel that bag of barf you produced after watching her film 'Golden Star: The Live 3D Rachel Barbra Berry-Hudson Experience'?"

"That's because I and the rest of world, felt that it was pertinent for her to know that she needed to be more responsible about putting her massive beak on a 3D screen like that. It was uncalled for, unreasonable, and could have poked someone's eye out. After my UPS express delivery Ziploc vomit baggy, there have been zero 3D movies made by anyone that swoons when they catch a glimpse of a reindeer on a itchy, ill-fitting sweater. I think you know what to say to me right about now."

"Thank you. Thank you for discontinuing her crusade to blind me with her offensive, hideous face."

"And thank you for reminding me why I married you." I kissed him on the cheek. "Besides, we were uninvited by that emaciated, wilting holly tree anyway. So, why did we get another invite?" I returned to my chest of drawers, so I could continue my ever important search for the perfect cleavage exposing, overpriced top for that evening.

"Well, I ran into Holly on one of my weekly PR trips to the grocery store. You know, the ones that are designed to make me look like I am still one of the regular people of the world…"

"Yes, I'm well aware of said trips." _I'm Santana, I know all of the going ons, ins, and outs of this house. I practically know the last time you took a dump David. What a buffoon._ "And?"

"And she told me that Brittany would still like me to show up and that you're still uninvited until you apologize."

"And then you informed her that you would rather quit football and join a professional curling team from Cambodia than be seen at a nudie party; especially without your dime piece of a wife…right?" He failed to answer within the amount of time I deemed acceptable. "RIGHT?"

"…Well…no." I glared so hard blind people in China flinched. "It's because she mentioned kielbasa and I kinda just stood there drooling because I haven't had anything that tastes good in my diet for years."

"Which is exactly why you are ranked second hottest wide receiver in the NFL. I don't marry fat slobs." I slowly strutted over to him and let my hand slide down his chest slowly. "I think you're the hottest, you know that right?" He nodded and bit his lip. I then went over to pour us some wine and motioned for him to sit down. "Honestly David, what would possess you to not just turn her down?"

"I didn't say yes!" I rolled my eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. After accomplishing that without my contacts falling out, I sat down close to him. When I had shit to say, I had a real love of making sure who I was preparing to say shit to, got a good look at the pissed off expression on my expertly exfoliated face.

"But you didn't say no, now did you? These braless broads are trying to wear you down and I don't take too kindly to that. You are MY husband and you will NOT be at such a party. END OF." I made a hand motion that was the universal sign for 'case closed'. "LISA LING!"

"YES?!" My personal assistant, who supposedly was really named Tina, raced out of her panic room sized office.

"Get me Holly from across the streets number. I'm about to give her a call she'll never forget. Oh and call Burt. My new designer razor blade line is simply not sharp enough."

"I'm on it!"

**-Three minutes and multiple rants about razor blade side effects on a weaves later-**

I had somehow gotten sidetracked. Maybe it was because for the first time in ages, I realized that I actually had an hour with NOTHING planned in it. Therefore, my highly exercised gluteus maximus found itself plopped in a three thousand dollar lawn chair. As I gazed over the city I practically ran, I found myself thinking back. Flashing back to a time when I was significantly less rich and far less in control. To a time when I was told "This is your boyfriend." Yeah, a couple people on gossip sites suspected but few really knew for sure that David and I were put together by our agents. Some look down upon that sort of thing, but really, how different is it from when your friend says 'Girl, I've got the guy for you!' and then sets you up on a blind date? It's the same thing, really. I met him and I liked him and let's not lie, his complete lack of needing to be right melded in well with my utter passionate lust for control. The two together equaled power. Any mathematician would agree.

Soon after we became an item; we became tabloid royalty, which made us THE power couple to be jealous of. It made us worth millions and when we got married we both became even bigger superstars; which neither of us thought was even possible. We helped each other and even though he had the sex drive of a ran over fish with arthritis, our union not only survived…Santofsky reigned supreme. People were jealous, and looking at us, even I was jealous sometimes.

We were everything the public was told they should want. Rich, powerful, famous, attractive… But every once in a while, when my agent hadn't somehow blocked out my entire day with press for some shitstorm of a romantic comedy that sucked hairy balls but made me twenty million so I pretended to like it anyway…When I wasn't busy doing that shit. I would lay there on my patio and wonder what could have been.

I would wonder if I had made the right choice.

But then I'd remind myself that I am the vision society says is great.

_I am the goal. I am the dream. My life is everything people believe they need._

I achieved everything I was told I should be. My life was the expert approved equation for happy. After remembering all my blessings, reality would hit and those pointless seconds of what if's and what could have beens…

They'd just float away into the LA skyline.

Not to be seen until I was once again presented with an unbusied moment.

Not to be heard until I could think…

Without all the noise.

**-In a brightly painted dining room across the street-**

Holly was going through the guest list for both the picnic and the nudist retreat she was planning later on that month. However Brittany, like one would expect, started a rather distracting conversation in the middle of Holly's organizational efforts.

"I always thought having a massive chest would be frustrating. Like, your back would hurt like Lord Tubbington complains his does from his busty furry man breasts when he forgets to wear the bra I made especially for him. I know he's a nudist too but sometimes you have to think about your health, you know? But anyway, when I saw her just sleeping there on her own tit pillow, I realized everything really does have a bright side, huh? I love bright things. And why don't dark sides just stay out of the sun for a while? Two tone looks like one side was just too shy to be their full selves or like they have a cold or something and that's depressing...What do you think, Holly?"

Seriously, that was a standard level Brittany conversation starter. Nobody gave a what the fuck look to it either. That was legitimately the norm.

"I think I slept like Finn Hudson during a Rachel Hudson Karaoke party last night. I'm so stressed. All the people I want at the party are not coming and to make it EVEN better, only the rejects have confirmed."

"Cool people always show up fashionably late because like me, they don't have watches." Holly nodded as if any of that made sense, which she had been known to do for years.

Holly Holiday had known Brittany for quite some time. It was four or eight years ago, Holly was not quite sure because she was high for at least a five year period of her life, that she THOUGHT was in the middle of the duration of her friendship with Brittany. But anyway, she came across Brittany S. Pierce one day on a nude beach playing flag football. But of course, Brittany being Brittany, she had somehow confused flag football for touch football. Because of this discrepancy, she was kicked out of the game for being too rough and for making her touchdown dances the length of a Kanye West rant about how great he is…Oh, and 'accidentally' planting her face in a tan woman's supple unclothed derriere. Because she was now banned from nude sports on the nude beach, Brittany found herself building the Taj Mahal of sandcastles with her fatass cat helping with exactly -156% of the construction. Although if you were to ask Brittany, she would have told you that he was the architect for the mammoth structure.

"You hang out here often?" Holly questioned, as she peered at the perfectly round moat surrounding the fortress Tubbs may or may not have just hocked a furball in.

"Whenever I can. I'm tired of getting arrested for losing my shirt. They're hard to keep track of and I really don't want to anyway. They're itchy and my skin rejects them." Brittany shrugged as Holly smirked. "They refuse to play nice so I've given them a time out. Same thing happened to me with those people over there." Brittany nodded towards the humans that were now playing nude badminton. "But it's okay, I don't want to hit a birdie, anyway. It's mean." Holly was confused because she was sober that day for some unknown reason...Oh yeah, her dealer Sandy Ryerson had just been locked up. But high or not; this person was an interesting one. Holiday had done lots of world traveling and was known to like and collect things that were one of a kind. So it seemed Brittany was right up her alley. The castle of sand creator was like no one else and Holly thought that was rad. There was a certain spirit about her that shone bright. So bright Holly thought she needed sunglasses, well that and that the sun was in her face because some dude who was Casper's paler sibling had his tanning reflector pointed right at her. Details.

"I'm the same way you know. I don't like clothes either. It can be hard to be a nudist in an ever covered up society."

"Oh, so that's what you'd call me then? A nudist." Brittany said it as if she were uttering some new phrase in a language she hadn't even heard of.

"Yeah, of course. What did you classify yourself as before?"

"Brittany." Holly grinned. Nude sandcastle builder had a way of making a lot of sense whilst saying theses sensical things in a very odd, original fashion. Holiday could dig it.

"Well then, just call me Holly."

And four…or eight…you know, it could have been NINE years later. Seriously, Holly's memory was as useful as a petrified Finn Hudson turd. Anyway, after all that time, they were still attached at the hip. And not only friendship wise, they were also business partners. They had created nudist fundraisers, events, and parties. Sure they both had day jobs, but their passion was showing people that being who you are is more than enough. You didn't need all the bells and whistles of some expensive shit on your body. You just needed to surround yourself with positive people and let your natural epicness out. That would bring happiness, and to spread that message was their mission.

It was a real wonder I didn't get along with these perpetually perky ladies, huh? Anyway, even though Holly had done tons of these events, she still got agitated and nervous and therefore, the ever happy Brittany had to talk her down.

"UGH, why does that Jewish guy with the fro keep trying to sign up?"

"Boobs…and possibility vagina. But, I say mainly boobs." Brittany attempted to enlighten.

"I concur." The third blond person in the room agreed. I seriously think this was an actual Swedish nudist commune and nobody could ever dream of convincing me otherwise.

"Don't people understand the basics of being a nudist? It's not about tit exposer! We should all be free to wear what we want and don't want."

"And for me that's never anything." Third fair haired person stated with conviction.

"Then why are you shivering?"

"It's hard for me, okay?"

"Anyway, I'm still not convinced that clothes are not the vehicle for the spread of cooties. And until they add cooties to STI testing, I feel it's important to adhere to safer garment practices. If only society didn't ignore these issues, we might live in a cleaner, safer, more trusting world." And because everyone in the room had either become immune to the Pierce vaccine or because this all somehow made sense to them, they all nodded in unison.

"If only more people saw the world like you do Brittany; our next retreat would be perfect. But because we've got Ken Tenaka, who still doesn't understand that neon shirts are not accepted, wanting to come…"

"Holly, you're an amazing nudist retreat director. You can make a great time happen no matter who's there! It's going to turn out great. Don't stress. You just do what you do…"

"She means smoke weed."

"Exactly. Be like check and bong."

"Cheech and Chong?"

"I don't like those cheese snacks. They add cellulite and that's a problem when you're always naked."

The room was quiet for a moment because Brittany had actually managed to out quirky even Holly's brain.

"Anyway, everything goes great every year and the turnout is always awesome, so just chill. Besides, we're both going to be there to help." Brittany high-fived the person next to her. "I mean, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have ever realized there was a community for me. I would have just thought I was a random always nude bicorn that the police would eventually get tired of picking up, so they'd just turn me into a science experiment. And after that probing a few years back from the shiny suit wearing green people, I'd rather not be a part of any science experiments anymore." Brittany's face was resolute with determination that that shit was NOT EVER happening again.

"You guys always know how to cheer me up."

"That's what friends are for, besides, Brittany and I both have a stake in the company so we can't have our queen go rogue on us."

"We're the three amigos, I'd never let that happen."

"Lord Tubbington loves those candy bars."

After the three of them discussed the large variety of Lard Blubbingtons fattening menu options, Holly, much to her irritation, put on clothes and left the house.

If only I had been informed of this prior to making the fateful decision to call.

"Holly?" I questioned over the brand new iPhone 7s I had just been sent by Apple.

"No, this is Sam."

"Okay, can you get me Holly?"

"Why would you like her?"

"That is none of your business, person that is not Holly." I heard some muttering on the line "Hello?"

"HI! It's Brittany."

"I want Holly."

"Well, a lot of people want Holly. She's hot. There's a pretty big line but I could put you on the list if you want?"

"What the…No, I mean I need to talk to her."

"Oh, well, she's not here right now. She's at the grocery store."

"AGAIN? That bitch was just at the store talking to my husband this morning about your dumb picnic that he will NOT be attending."

"That's sad. He said he would though? And you shouldn't prejudge the picnics intelligence like that." _WHAT?_ I ignored the last part because… what else could you do?

"He told me he didn't say that."

"Well not at first, but when I showed him…"

"You were there?"

"He didn't tell you? Yeah, I showed him a picture of Kurt and he blushed and then said he'd be there if there was kielbasa. Of course it was adorable that he pretended he wanted the phallic looking processed meat instead of Kurt's similar looking boy parts. Dave is so cute, I see why you married him. But you really should let him sleep with boys from time to time. He seems so on edge."

"WE'RE MARRIED! WHAT DON'T YOU GET ABOUT THAT?!"

"So? Married people should get to have sex too. How can you expect him to be happy when…"

"I am his WIFE. I KNOW what makes him happy more than anyone in the stinking WORLD. And for your information, both my husband and I have plenty of sex. Not that it is ANY of your business…"

"But that's impossible, he says he's monogamous to you and you…well…we all know about you."

"What the fuck are you talking about? _Ugh, I don't even want the answer._ "You know what? When the hell do you suspect Holly will be back?"

"Oh, not until tomorrow likely. She's trying to nail this dude she met named Will. I don't get why. I mean, I like butts as much as the next person but he has one on his chin and it's like super small. I like big tight butts."

"Brittany?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you spend too much time playing with radon as a child?"

"No, but I did have a Unicorn pogo stick." I was quiet for a moment because legit…What the fuck? "I'm sad he's coming and you're not." Her voice was soft and genuine.

"He's NOT coming."

"He said he would?"

"He felt awkward telling you guys no to your faces; which of course is a word I have ZERO problem with."

"I think under the right circumcisions you'd have a hard time saying that particular word."

"I think you mean circumstances and what the hell does that even mean?"

"Come to the picnic and find out." Her voice was suspiciously low…

"I thought I was uninvited?"

"I know you're sorry Santana, even if you want to be stubborn about it to protect your hot bitch image. There's nobody else here to hear you say you're sorry or to admit that maybe you feel bad about being so rude to me. You don't have to keep up this front around me, which is why I want you to come to the picnic. It's a place where you can just be yourself and let it all hang out, literally."

"YOU do NOT know me! Stop analyzing me! And I sure as FUCK am not going to a NUDIST party. Not happening now or ever for any reason. And only I get to see my husband naked. Period."

"Why reserve a view for yourself that you don't even want anyway?"

"Because I love my husband, that's why."

"And I love Holly but that doesn't mean I want to have sex with her...again. It just means that she's important to me and I'm sure Dave Married is important to you too but you can't possibly sleep with him."

"Of course I SLEEP with him!"

"Why?" The vein in my forehead was about to explode.

"Listen closely. WE. ARE. MARRIED!"

"But he's gay and you're gay…Why put yourselves through that?"

"You are a vile creature."

"How do you put a creature my size in a tiny glass vessel? I thought those were for blood?"

"What the…I don't know what you are but you're clearly a gross species of human."

"Bicorn's are anything but gross and I don't appreciate some Unicorns' need to say that we're greedy and gross. I'm not greedy at all just because I like everybody. It's not gross and calling it that is bullying and I won't accept that." _WHAT?_

"Have Holly call me." And I hung up and then yelled at Kung Fu Panda to get me some extra strength aspirin_. How does anyone live with that loony bin? And who is Sam? I thought just her and Holly lived there._ "LUCY LIU!"

"WHAT?!"

"I need aspirin."

"I heard you."

"Good, also schedule a two hour bitching out session for my husband around two before I go to work. And tell him I have lots of things to say, so he better not be late."

"Got it."

**-The next day on the set of my latest movie-**

"I hate this script; thank GOD I look extremely hot in that all leather bodysuit."

"I know, Pucci never goes wrong." Blaine, my bushy eyebrowed second personal assistant aka professional yes man, commented. "Oh, your phone's buzzing."

"Answer for me."

"Hello, who is this? Well, you need to answer first before I tell you whose phone this is, unless you have the password. Then who is it? Some neighbor of yours that goes by Holly?"

"Give me that." He handed me the phone and went over to observe my hair product collection. "How did you get my number?"

"Well, hello to you too Santana," I could feel her smirk over the phone and it pissed me the hell off. "I hear you had a conversation with Brittany last night. She said she would feel comfortable with you coming to the party. I don't know what you said, but good work. I knew you had it in you."

"Never talk to my husband again. Also, never mail anything to my house again. As far as you are concerned, my family and home do not exist. You understand me?"

"You're so protective Santana, but maybe you should open yourself up a little bit, don't you think?"

"Don't talk to me, my husband, or go near my house. YOU GOT IT?"

"I do."

"Oh and by the way, you should discontinue being a nudist. Your tits are too saggy to ever succeed at such a useless hobby. I'll send you a bra from my latest Spicy Snix lingerie collection as a parting gift. No need to thank me and by no need, I mean don't." I let out my patented bitch smirk even though she couldn't see it.

"Sounds like you've been doing a lot of pondering on my bosoms, Santana. And you say you're not gay." Aaaaand, I hung up. Why? Because no human should make themselves deal with that much idiocy. _What infuriating people._ "ASIAN LADY!"

"I'm STILL right beside you Santana! I've been with you ALL day!" I turned and sure enough, she was standing right there with a pen and paper.

"Order Holly-"

"I heard, I'll send her a bra. Would you like it to be the right size, excessively too small, or excessively too big?"

"Too big, maybe she'll get the hint and go and get a lift."

"Would you like me to send one to Brittany?"

"No no, there's nothing to make fun of there. I'd rather not waste the money."

"Right." Tina nodded slowly and walked off. Truth be told, Brittany for as wacky as she was, was kinda hard to make fun of. She always seemed to find a way to defuse whatever I was saying. I found it infuriating, but as we spoke more and more it quickly became apparent that she might have almost been becoming a worthy competitor of mine. Sure, I didn't want her around my husband because what woman wants another naked woman around her husband, BUT, I had to admit…

Our arguments had something to them.

Something interesting.

Something like…

A spark.

* * *

*Lights fireworks* LOL. And before anybody shoots me, remember the list! Sam has NOTHING to do with Bram. I'm aware a few of you probably groaned just seeing his name. Honestly, his name is enough to rightfully cause nonsexual groaning. HOWEVER, Sam in this story doesn't have a very big part and he's who I think he should have been on the show. Remember when we used to have those Bramtana week? He's kinda like that, only less involved. I hate season four Sam more than you could even KNOW, so I promise he's not going to be insufferable. No bram, no Sam the hero, no douche Sam, no constant mentions of his nudity (There's one more in the entire story). He's funny, he's dopey, and he's a good friend. I'm not Ryan Murphy, I keep my promises. I promise he won't be vomit educing at all.

But enough about him! Lets get to what happened this chapter! What did we learn? Santana does a lot of thinking when she has time, Brittany used to play nude football, Tina is Santana's assistant and is called by many names not her own, Dave Married goes on PR grocery runs, Brittany forgave Santana because she thought she was sorry even though she didn't say she was (Was that wise of Britt?), Santana got called gay about fifty times, Brittany seems to have decided she knows more about Santana's marriage than Santana does, Santana feels a competitive spark between her and Brittany, and Holly supposedly has saggy tits. LOL. Where will this all take us?

I'll tell you, it take us straight to the picnic next chapter! *Grins brightly*

Thank you all for following (70 followers, just over wanky!), favoriting, and reviewing! You're all awesome. If I were Brittany, I'd invite you to help me build a sandcastle! :)


	4. Bosom Buddies

First off, yep the title of this chapter has tits in it. Let's all take a moment to enjoy that, shall we? *enjoys* Okay, back to the story…What? Like there was anything more to say past tits. Come on now. And what's important is that Brittany agrees with me. I speak in only Brittany approved logic. ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Bosom Buddies**

"You like her."

"What?" Brittany's head lifted from the Lisa Frank inspired pillow on her bed.

"You do. The feisty, bitchy, super mean woman who treated you like crap on your own doorstep but looked super fine doing it - You like her."

"I just think she's super hot. I don't know her enough to actually… like her…You even think she's hot so-"

"Yeah, but I don't wanna bang her like you do."

"And? So what?" Brittany shrugged.

"You know what. You're moping over a girl who you don't know at all, other than that she's a cold bitch yet super fuckable. You don't just think she's hot - you like her. It was like at first sight. And I think we should go over there and-"

"Holly, I've barely spoken to her and she already thinks I'm stupid."

"No, she's just baffled by you, and has the manners of a two month old who pees on you when you're just trying to change its diaper." It goes without saying, I had never been described in a more sensuous manner.

"She won't even come to our picnic."

"But Dave will and if Dave shows up and she finds out he showed up, then she WILL show up. Sure, she might be clothed," Brittany frowned deeply. "But still, she'll show up and then you can totally lay your bicorn charm on her."

"Hey," Sam popped his head in the door. "Slumber party?"

"No, just trying to get Brittany to stop moping over the bitchy hot girl from across the street."

"Why would you mop?" He walked in eating his entire apple in a bite and a half; courtesy of his giant humongo mouth. "You always get whoever you want. Boys, girls…that Unique chick. Everybody. You're a charming gal Britt and if I wasn't totally like your brother, went black back in high school and never went back, and super used to seeing you naked; my Avatar boxers would drop in your presence too. Don't doubt your powers, young nudist. Some of us really wish we even had an ounce of them. Maybe then, Mercedes would give me a second chance."

"OH MY GOD! This is NOT going to turn into a pity party!" Holly tree exclaimed. "Do you guys want some of my pot or something? How about pot brownies?" They stared at her blankly as a result of her logical solution to sadness. Considering that Holly was used to not being understood, she continued. "This is a no blues zone-"

"But, I like Billie Holiday." Brittany sulked further.

"NO! I mean this is a no sadness zone and I won't take anymore of your bummer fumes polluting my perpetually stoked aurora!" Because Brittany was sure that in even a hot air balloon, she wouldn't be able to get high enough to understand any of that…because Holly was attractive and everything but she was a little cockca for Raisin Brain…Or coo coo for Toucan Sam? Brittany didn't really know the proper analogy, probably because she consistently confused the words analogy and allergy… But, the point is Holly was pretty but kinda nuts and because of this and Brittany's need to avoid confrontation like it was violence, perky bosomed girl aka Brittany S. Pierce, just ignored everything Holly said and then proceeded to make an effort to help her pitiful loser friend Sam with his excruciating, absurdly pathetic attempt at a love life.

"She just wasn't receptive of your conversion to a nude lifestyle…even though you're wearing pants right now."

"We've talked about this, I'm a recovering never nude, Brittany."

"You know, it's okay to just be a never nude? You don't have to be one of us to live here. Kitty used to wear clothes from time to time too, especially after Brittany tried to pet her."

"She was missing her fur and I feel like even bald cats should get to be petted. They don't make full body toupees for them you know." And… you could hear crickets.

"Uh yeah anyway, I appreciate that guys are trying to make me feel better but I've got to get over my issues because Mercedes couldn't handle them and I really want her back. She's always been so accepting; she even liked me as a stripper, but was unable to handle my showering in my boxers ways. I feel if I'm ever going to get over it, I must go to the complete extreme and attempt to be a nudist. But when I told her of those plans, she was totally freaked out and left me. I swear I can't win! None of this makes any sense! She liked the stripper but not the attempted nudist?"

"Brittany never said it made sense; she just said it was the truth. But there are plenty of hot chicks out there, aren't I right Brittany?"

"Yeah, but it's hard when they don't even want to be around you."

"Tell me about it." Brittany and Huge-o McMassive mouth took pouting to new unheard of places during this moment in time. Wanting to get a refund from Ticketmaster for the concert she was mistakenly given VIP passes to entitled 'Sorrowfest 2013', Holiday Inn put in a committed, tireless effort to change the subject. And considering the topic she had to resort to to make that happen, it's clear…The woman was desperate.

"Rachel and Finn are coming."

"Eww, I don't want to hear about that and how and WHY do you know that?" Brittany shivered in pure disgust and unbridled terror.

"No no, GOD NO!" Holly looked like she needed a barf bag to mail to the squatty theater junkie with hideous bangs. "I mean they will be at the picnic."

"WHAT?! WHY?! Holly! Now if Santana does come, she'll get one glance at his fuzzy breasts and run the other way!"

"Or send him a cheaply made bra. Those Snix collection bras are horrible!"

"Don't make light of this!"

"But it's not light Sam, this is a big problem. It's totally heavy. Mosquito bites are a light problem. Rachel and her urges to wear offensively ugly clothes, including items with poor innocent animals who were never asked for their consent to be represented on itchy looking, terribly fitting sweaters - that untappable girl, she's a heavy heavy problem that is known to make all possible love interests sexually unexcited and that makes me sexually frustrated and prone to bouts of sad. By the end of the picnic we'll all want to sporklift her away to a far away land and that will be because you invited her, even though nobody wants to be around her. You know what? How about Sam and I put our minds to it to be happy and in exchange you call her and tell her that nobody is ever having sex again if she shows up." I didn't know it at the time but…Brittany's hatred for Lady Hudson was a quality I highly, highly approved of.

"What she said. Why did you invite them in the first place Holly? You know how Mercedes feels about Barbra! In fact, none of us like her. She kept trying to give me Chapstick as a welcoming gift when we moved in. It was kinda weird…and a gross knockoff brand. I may be a stripper but I have standards, thank you very much." The middle aged nudist hippie gave them a poignant look of deep disappointment.

"You guys should be ashamed of yourselves! The point IS to get to know the community and she is part of the community even if she sucks. A lot. So you should both welcome her with open arms to this wonderful loving picnic we are going to throw tomorrow!"

"Soooo… she invited herself?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

The room was silent until Brittany broke it.

"Is Will coming?"

"I wish."

**-The Picnic-**

"Usually, I would be morally against fashionless festivities but since you have informed me of the cute boy that shall be making himself known at this party, I feel that it is only appropriate that I make my presence known in the customary lack of attire."

"We can't make any promises Kurt." Female Willy Nelson started. "His banshee of a wife has him on a short leash. The closet those two are in is more like the tomb of Tutankhamun."

"Of course they will come." Brittany added cheerily, trying to stay positive with all her might. "There's hot naked people and food that looks like parts on hot naked people. What's not to like?"

"Isn't the nudist philosophy about not looking at each other lustfully and rejecting society's rules on clothing?" Brittany shrugged.

"Maybe, I don't know. I just don't like clothes." Kurt looked beyond hurt.

"But h-how?"

"My body refuses them. My mom tried to put me in a prom dress when I was eighteen and for some reason, that night I ended up getting a job at a stripclub…which is where I met Sam!" Kurt nodded as if any of this made sense. "I appreciate you coming even though I know it's against your belief system as a fashion designer. You're a great friend."

"Yeah yeah, OH MY GOD IS THAT RACHEL HUDSON?!" Brittany scrunched her nose at the new arrival and said new arrivals gassy, greasy, oafish attempt at a husband.

"Ugh, now Santana is never gonna show up. She can probably sense their ickiness from miles away like some sort of loser radar system. I wonder if she would sell me one..."

"Who's Santana?"

"The wife of the guy I'm trying to set you up with."

"Oh, the one you think likes girls?" Brittany grinned.

"I know she likes girls."

"How?"

"I don't know, I just do. But she doesn't know it just yet." Kurt put on his best 'concerned friend' face.

"Do you really want to go through all that stuff? You, better than anyone I know, know who you are. Brittany, do you really want to deal with someone who has no idea about even the most fundamental aspects of themselves?"

"Everyone learns at different speeds Kurt. I learned dance fast but it took me forever to be able to read. I came to the conclusion that boobs are majestic after my well endowed nanny gave me a hug to comfort me when I stubbed my toe. Santana just hasn't figured out all this yet but I know she will because she is so not straight. She just needs somebody to believe she can learn, like my awesome fifth grade teacher that knew that with enough work, I could read."

"Let me guess, you needed a lot of comforting growing up."

"What can I say? I was accident prone." Kurt giggled as Brittany smirked.

"WOOOOOO LOOK AT ALL THE LADIES!" And…our stupid security guard made himself known at the picnic. Just what everyone wanted.

"You were not invited." Holly informed the douchey naked man that managed to have two landing strips growing out of two different areas of his body.

"But I'm a nudist!" He protested.

"No, you're not. You just want to see boobs. This is a place for people to feel free to be themselves. They can't feel free if some guy with a furry critter on his head is perving on them. It's a no perv zone. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But."

"No buts." She pointed to the exit as Brittany frowned at the thought of no butts.

"You're kind of a MILF, you know." His eyebrows went up and down as a smirk appeared on his poorly aging face.

"I'm not that Broadway train wreck baby machine Shelby Corcoran. Therefore, I don't sleep with little boys who have meth face. Get out." He stumbled backwards while giving everyone the double flipped bird.

"Ya'll can't handle the Puckasaurus anyway!" An attempt to impregnate air with his thrusting hips happened during this horrid, projectile vomit inducing moment in history.

"I'm going inside to get more booze." Kurt turned to Brittany and replied,

"I'll help."

**-Inside the house-**

Brittany and Kurt we're debating on if the addition of absinthe would be a wise one, when a tall stalky guy I knew better than anyone, showed up cupping his bits.

"Umm…hi. I'd wave but…well, you know."

"You're so cute." Brittany informed and then brightly smiled. "It's nothing we haven't seen before. Don't be shy." She motioned for him to drop his hands.

"Umm…maybe later."

"Yeah later sounds good…So, what's your name?" The pretty lady man questioned.

"His name's Dave Married."

"No, that's not-"

"Wow, interesting last name."

"Isn't it great?"

"Umm…I'm still standing here naked…uhhhh…this is awkward. Should I just go outside or-"

"You should stay right the fuck where you are!" All eyes shot in the direction of a fully clothed me; who was standing menacingly at the door frame. My husband's face screamed that he wanted to die. My face screamed at various deafening volumes that I couldn't wait to make that a reality. "WHAT THE **FUCK** DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

"He's making friends." Brittany interjected.

"He's being an exhibitionist." Kurt perked an eyebrow at my husband and as a result, the supposed love of my life blushed. HE BLUSHED. _HE'S NEVER BLUSHED BEFORE! What the FUCK is THAT SHIT?_

"NO, he's embarrassing himself. Come on David, let's go home and get you into that ugly ill-fitting jersey you love so much." For some reason that was beyond me at that time, my big strong husband looked torn. _How can he be torn? When your painfully hot wife says you're going home, you fucking go home. That's the end of that argument. Well, unless you'd like to never get laid again._

"NO."

Turns out he didn't want to get laid again.

"Excuse me?" My hands made their way to my hips and my neck cocked in a fashion that told him that Lima Heights Santana was about to cut his junk off with the rustiest knife she could find.

"Y-you heard me Santana. I-" He breathed deeply and removed his hands from the present only I was supposed to be able to open. Both Kurt and Brittany nodded in approval. "I want to stay and I'm going to." I strutted up to him like a bobcat after its prey, and he tried his best to put on a brave face but his acting had never been the best. He once did a TV movie that was called 'The vomitfest of the century' by the Hollywood Reporter. I had to agree…but that's mainly because I hated his co-star, Kate Hudson.

"You are DEFYING your wife to hang out with a bunch of freaks?"

"They're not freaks!" I perked a perfectly threaded eyebrow, which led to him rolling his eyes and huffing. "Okay, Brittany's a little daffy."

"No I'm not, I prefer Penelope Pussycat!" I didn't know whether to scowl, scoff, roll my eyes or sigh. So I ended up doing them all at once, which made me look like a violently ill, chronically sarcastic person with whooping cough. "Do you need antacid?" She asked helpfully.

"WILL YOU SHUT UP!" I pushed my nude husband to the side and headed straight for the cause of his stupidity. "I told you, I don't want you in any way shape or form around my family! STOP talking to my husband. He is NOT one of you. Or-" I directed my attention to the fairy princess. "You. Take a nice look at his ass because it will be the LAST time you see it. Come on honey, let's go." I turned in his direction only to realize he was already gone. "David?"

"I don't think it will be the last time I see it." The Peter Pan rip off smirked for all of two seconds. The reason it only lasted two seconds was because I attempted to punch the shit out of his blemish free, smarmy, little shithead face. He ducked and before I knew it Brittany had grabbed my arms, pulled me against her, and told Kurt to leave authoritatively. The pretty little mystical creature like male pranced away at a speed I suspected he would typically only be able to accomplish when hearing of a Prada sale.

"NO VIOLENCE IN MY HOME SANTANA!"

"LET ME GO!" She pulled me tighter against her naked form.

"NO. VIOLENCE. You have to promise me this will never happen again before I will let you go." I tried like a son of a burly bitch to get out of her grasp but the woman was strong.

"I wouldn't have had to get VIOLENT if you would have just left my husband alone like I asked you to!"

"I haven't said anything to him since the grocery store. It was his own decision to come. He's your husband, not your slave." I didn't agree with her definition of husband at all. Clearly, a dictionary would be the gift I would give her for her birthday, that and a lifetime subscription to 'Peroxide Weekly' and 'Loud Home Color Schemes Digest'. After mentally determining which Asian celebrity I would purposely mistake my assistant for when I yelled at her to purchase those items, I decided my best plan of attack was to play Brittany's very strange game. _She thinks I'm gay right? Well fine, I'll just use her obvious attraction to me to my advantage. My life IS all about creating advantages, after all. _

"Well, few dislike being my slave." My voice lowered. "I make it a mutually rewarding experience." I could feel her grin slowly appear.

"Really?" The curiosity and lust were painfully obvious. This was a human who made no attempt to play it cool about her true interests. She was who she was and who she was, was a woman that wanted in my pants. _Clearly, you bring up sex and you can distract this girl from any situation immediately. Her libido must be out of control. _

"Oh yeah, how do you feel about whips and chains?"

"Why do you ask?" She gulped out. She was under my spell and remarkably fast at that.

"Why do you think? You're got your naked body pressed up against my back…it inspires my vivid imagination to go amuck. Would you like to know exactly what I'm imagining right now, Brittany?" I could feel her breath quicken and her grip loosen. _I'm so close…wanky…Okay Santana, not in that way. But seriously, just play your cards right. You have her exactly where you want her…that almost sounded wanky again, didn't it? Damn it._

"Yeah, Santana." She whispered sensuously. I turned my head further into her lips and managed to see her bite her lip in my peripheral vision. "I would."

"I think you need to be taught a lesson. Maybe a choice area of your body needs me to get nice and rough with it. Maybe a nice hard slap would do. Where do you think I'd choose this place of slapping to be?"

"Is it the place we discussed before?" _So, she's an ass woman…_

"Do you want it to be?" Her arms had completely gone to jelly and I slipped out from them, only to turn around and pin her against the counter. I had never heard breathing that shallow in such a context before. The whole situation made me feel oddly proud of my abilities with both men and as it seemed, women. _Guess when you're this sexy, all people swoon._ "Answer me." My finger traced her lips. "Tell me where you want me to touch you."

"Everywhere." She breathed out. I smirked devilishly.

"Now now," My hand caressed her cheek softly and she leaned into it. "Don't be greedy." Her ears turned bright red and her entire face flushed. I'd say she was cute if it didn't happen because of my dirty offer.

"Please, please stop teasing." She begged. "I need you." Even I couldn't believe how invested she was in this. _Do I really turn her on THAT much? Who feels this much this soon? She was JUST mad at me and now she would gladly let me fuck her?  
_

"I need you too. You know what I need from you?"

"Please Santana, stop-"

"I promise I'll indulge you with a slap my dear." She sucked in air at the pet name. "But you have to do something for me first." I stuck my finger in her mouth, which caused her to moan embarrassingly loud. I pumped it in and out agonizingly slow a few times before removing it dramatically, eliciting a sexy popping sound. I let her chest heave, and her body perspire in anticipation a few long seconds before I leaned into her ear and whispered, "I need you to stay the FUCK away from my husband!"

"WHA-" And the slap across her cheek cut her off. Her hand touched the red mark I left in shock as I strutted away from her victoriously.

"Please remember one very crucial detail Brittany Susan Pierce, I never ever apologize. No matter how or for what reason I slap my victims, I never apologize." I gave her a wink, turned, and stormed out in the most divaish fashion recorded in recent history. Well, at least since I saw Naomi Campbell throw her hair dryer at Blaine. That was fun.

After causing Brittany to drop her non-existent panties using the very violence she said she hated, I decided there was no time like the present to set my not as kept as I thought he was husband straight. Upon finding him in the guestroom naked and hugging the flaming stranger bitch I almost hit earlier, I made my presence KNOWN.

"Explain this NOW. GO." The male part of my relationship yelped, jumped back from the boy I refused to learn the name of, and fell on the floor faster than a drunk Lindsay Lohan…which is only slightly faster than a sober one. Listen, I KNOW Lindsay. When I make Lindsay jokes I'm talking from experience here. The Hummel looking doll covered his engorged bits and turned around only to realize that his ass was now exposed. To fix this unfortunate situation, he took off what was legitimately the most fabulous, randomly worn church hat I had ever seen and used it to obstruct the derriere my husband had likely been keen to invade. "I'm waiting David. I know that you play a sport where you bend over in front of dudes, catch balls, and then get tackled... but this is gay even for you."

"Umm…I-"

"Why are you making him explain? I think you know what you saw!" The human Glaad award interjected as if anyone gave a petrified shit what he thought.

"You're already in my marriage far more than I want you to be. Speak again and you'll find yourself tied to the back of an El Camino, being drug through Lima Heights Adjacent, as your delicate little porcelain face scraps across the pavement while I wave out the window to the locals as if I were Princess Diana."

"What's Lima heights adj-" I cut him off. Had he missed the whole face plus pavement part?

"Oh and David?" I stepped over him, one foot almost landing on a place he would never want a five inch heel to connect with.

"YEAH?!" He yelped. I pointed my phone at him.

"Say cheese." A flash and slap were heard one after the other.

**-Yet Another Epic Bitch Strut and Hair Flick Later-**

I gallivanted across the street, then classily yelled at vagina haired Puck to put on some fucking clothes and open the God damn gate to my house before I sautéed his balls with a vegetable medley and then made him eat them for breakfast, brunch, lunch, linner and dinner. Upon entering my palace, I decided I was due for a bubble bath. I always took those when I needed to think and my God I really had to think of what to do with David. His behavior and my lack of ability to control it concerned me and if I was honest, scared me. This had never happened before. Not in five years of marriage. When I came up with an order it was FOLLOWED. But at this time? Things had changed and not for the better. I didn't like changes that I didn't enact. For example, that no singing Broadway showtunes on weekdays ordinance I put before the neighborhood council. That was a change I created and loved and was loved for by the rest of the community. But what David was doing at that house, that had nothing to do with my decision making skills, and everything to do with what was my lack of answers and control.

After losing my bra along the way to the tub, I noticed something else that didn't know the answer to.

Something I didn't realize because I was so driven and so overwhelmingly irate.

My not Snix collection thong was drenched in my own arousal.

But the question was…

WHY?

* * *

DUN DUN DUN! Rachel would approve of the drama of both slaps, I think. Lol. Thoughts on the crazy twists and turns of this chapter? I see some very interesting things in the future! Oh in case you were wondering, Brittany's not a stripper anymore. She has another day job which you will find out about later. :)

A big thanks to everyone who has stuck with this fiction! I hope to update sooner next time. I've just been busy as HELL for a while but I am so excited to continue with this! I'm also working on a new interruptions chapter for those who read that fic. :D Thanks again for your support!


End file.
